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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25856341">These Chains (they bind us)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/duwangu/pseuds/duwangu'>duwangu</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snitewing/pseuds/Snitewing'>Snitewing</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>These Chains [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rivals to Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, threats of various kinds, we're strapping in for the long haul</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 06:34:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>19,595</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25856341</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/duwangu/pseuds/duwangu, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snitewing/pseuds/Snitewing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>On a routine trip to Derdriu, Lorenz and Claude are kidnapped by bandits who are after the Alliance heirs. </p><p>They recognize Lorenz. They fail to recognize Claude.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Lorenz Hellman Gloucester/Claude von Riegan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>These Chains [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1876228</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>100</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Capture</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello, Snitewing here, welcome to the first fic I've written in YEARS. The Claurenz brainworms possessed us both and I realized i couldn't be free until I wrote this. Big shoutout to the people in the claurenz tag on twitter crying disappointment for not having enough content; I have never been more motivated.</p><p>Tags will be updated as we go, because SO MANY THINGS are going to happen and I don't want to spoil any of it. Needless to say, I am very excited.</p><p>Any good writing can probably be attributed to duwangu. Future horny writing can DEFINITELY be attributed to duwangu. </p><p>We're buckling in for the long haul, babey.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Claude plucks a flower as they pass by a low hanging tree, taking a moment to enjoy the smell of it. It's the last month of fall, with winter only a month away, but the Leicester territories have always been warm. The pleasant heat of the sun warms his back, speckling through the foliage of the forest, and Claude smiles to himself. What a perfect day to make a trip to Derdriu. A perfect day for a long ride. A perfect day for... well, he’s not sure there’s ever a perfect day for needing to ride beside Lorenz for two full days. He’s happy to tease the man, but even Claude can only handle him for so long. Sighing, he urges his horse a little faster, speeding from the meandering pace he had insisted on in the relaxed environment. “I still don’t think you have to accompany me to the meeting. I can take care of myself well enough for a simple trip like this.”</p><p>“I am certain you can,” Lorenz says, with the air of someone who doesn’t believe what he’s saying in the slightest. “Be that as it may, it is my duty as heir to house Gloucester to have a presence in these meetings. It is good practice, after all.” He goads his horse into a faster trot to match Claude’s pace, indignant that the man would attempt to leave him behind.</p><p>“Right, right. It really helps, getting to sit back and watch the bickering. You’ll know exactly what to expect when your old man kicks the bucket,” Claude replies dryly, rolling his eyes. He encourages his horse to go just a tiny bit faster, keeping ahead of Lorenz. He doesn’t really want to stare at that undercut more than he needs to.</p><p>“How <em>dare</em> you -”</p><p>Lorenz’s affronted rant is nipped in the bud when his horse comes to a sudden stop with a nervous nicker. The noble frowns and urges her forward, and she goes very reluctantly. With the unexpected silence, Claude looks back, having been buckling down to listen to a long rant; something about disrespecting Lorenz’s father or the Alliance or <em>blah blah blah, </em>but the silence is far more disturbing than the thought of Lorenz’s lectures.</p><p>“What’s gotten into you all of a sudden? If you don’t hurry up, we’ll be old men by the time we reach the roundtable,” Claude snorts, a bit confused to see Lorenz so much further back. He hadn’t sped up <em>that</em> much.</p><p>Lorenz opens his mouth – maybe to alert Claude to something, maybe just to say something scathing – but before he can, there’s an almost imperceptible sound from the trees, and suddenly Claude’s horse is rearing back violently with a loud whinny, an arrow sticking out of its flank. Not having expected it in the slightest, and having had his back turned to face Lorenz, Claude finds himself unceremoniously tossed from his mount. He grunts as he hits the ground, finally seeing what made Lorenz’s horse slow down when he blinks back the stars – masked figures, previously hidden in the trees, now emerging from the foliage.</p><p>“Aw man. We just can’t have a peaceful trip, can we?” Claude groans, drawing his bow. Thank the goddess or gods or <em>whoever </em>that he kept it on his person – the rest of this stuff is currently being carted away by a panicked horse. He grimaces when he sees some bandits break off after it; some, but not nearly enough. Dodging another arrow, he quickly draws, taking two shots at an archer in the trees. He shouts at Lorenz as the body hits the ground, scrambling to his feet and running to Lorenz and his horse. He manages to knock down one more bandit, just narrowly dodging past a swing of another one’s sword. “Get us out of here!”</p><p>“I’m trying!” Lorenz hisses. Precious moments are sacrificed as he has to calm his poor horse, and by the time he manages it Claude is already at his side. Trusting him to jump on without help – Lorenz has seen him do similar stunts more than often enough - he instead grabs his lance from where it’s strapped to his mount’s side to fend off their attackers. An arrow whizzes by and just barely misses his shoulder, and Lorenz knows there isn’t much he can do about their ranged opponents. Claude curses and grabs onto the saddle, using pure adrenaline to haul himself up behind Lorenz. He quickly shoots back in the direction it came, not sure where exactly to pinpoint his shot.</p><p>“Go!” Claude yells, not liking the way a handful of bandits are moving to cover the path in front of them, blades drawn. He shifts so he’s pressed up close to Lorenz, not eager to fall off as soon as the horse starts moving. He fires at another bandit that’s getting too close for comfort, striking their leg. “We can lose them in the forest!”</p><p>“Cover me!” Lorenz hisses, but does as Claude asks and redirects his horse off the path, urging her to the side where he’d seen the least – bandits? Thugs? <em>Assassins? </em>Whatever the case, it’s only with luck that he’s able to dodge the first one that takes a swing at them. The second time, they’re not so lucky. One of the assailants jumps in front of his mount, lance in hand, and when she’s startled back two more take up ranks behind them.</p><p>“Shit, shit, shit -” How did they lose control so quickly? Claude was a fool for letting his guard down, he thinks, even as he manages to pluck off one of the people behind them. He can’t get an angle on the one actually blocking their path, though, and that isn’t going to do them any good. There’s a sudden flaring pain, and Claude cries out as an arrow sinks into his thigh. He kicks out at the hands trying to grab him and pull him off the horse, using an arrow as a horrible makeshift dagger to threaten them. This is going south far more quickly than he’s comfortable with.</p><p>As quickly as that, they’re surrounded. “Friends of yours, Claude?” Lorenz huffs, just loud enough for Claude to hear. His hands are tight on the reins, even though his mount has completely stopped. Despite concern flickering on his expression when he sees Claude’s injury, he keeps his eyes toward the man on the path he assumes to be the leader. “Good evening,” he calls, straining to keep his voice even. “To what do we owe this pleasure?”</p><p>Reasoning, huh? Claude supposes this really is their only choice, and he just glowers at the bandit standing nearby, the man still ready to pull him down to the ground. He counts at least a dozen men and women surrounding them by now; no way can they both get out alive against odds like these. As much as Claude finds Lorenz annoying, he won’t throw the man to the metaphorical wolves like that.</p><p>The bandit leader – if they’re even bandits at all – cocks a grin, the lance in his hands aimed right towards the chest of Lorenz’s horse. It’s a testament to her training that she manages to stand still. With a bandana pulled over his nose, Claude can’t make out any of his defining features. “Oh, you know,” the man sneers, “it’s the usual fair. Couple o’ noble brats travelling alone, perfect for the taking? Hardly gonna let’cha pass by without a hello.”</p><p>“If it is supplies or money you seek, I am certain we can have something arranged,” Lorenz says. “No need for further violence.” His voice sounds much more confident than Claude feels, but he isn’t going to say as much.</p><p>“Yeah, <em>something,”</em> the bandit mutters, a disgustingly smug undertone to his voice. A chill runs down Claude’s spine, right before he feels a hand grip the back of his jacket. He tries to grab onto Lorenz, but is near effortlessly yanked back off the horse before he can so much as wrap an arm around his waist. The yelp he lets out is far from dignified, but given the circumstances, he thinks he can be forgiven for that. A few bandits are quick to surround him, yanking at his weapons while they pull out a coil of rope, and the leader nods at Lorenz. “Come on, down you go.”</p><p>With gritted teeth, Lorenz slides off his horse with as much grace and dignity as he seems able to maintain despite the situation. Off to the side he can see Claude being all but manhandled into the rope, the bandits binding his hands behind his back. Lorenz keeps a tight grip on his lance. “What do you want from us?”</p><p>“Oh, not much. But I s’pose we could ask for a lot with the only heir of House Gloucester,” the man drawls, casually pacing toward them. Claude bites back a noise as he accidentally puts weight on his injured leg, the arrow still sticking out of the damn thing. He certainly won’t get any sympathy from these men, as a few of them snicker at him, shoving him a little now that his hands are firmly bound behind him. He’s no threat as he is now. Their leader snorts at Claude, raising an eyebrow. “Heir of House Gloucester and his... retainer, is it?” he continues, and, well. There’s one good thing about this; not everyone knows Claude’s face yet, and that definitely saves them some trouble. Who knows what these people would do if they realized they have <em>both </em>of the most prominent heirs in the Alliance in their grasp?</p><p>Lorenz’s breath hitches at the mention of his name, and he swallows down his nerves. “...Yes,” he replies, keeping his eyes forward. Claude can’t see what he’s thinking, but he hears Lorenz take a deep breath. “I won’t cooperate with you if you hurt him,” he says confidently, and isn’t that a relief.</p><p>“Yer hardly in a position to bargain, noble,” the leader laughs, amused by the notion. There’s a smattering of snickers around the clearing, before they move in to tie up Lorenz as well. “We won’t kill ‘im, though. Extra bodies are way more valuable breathing than not.” That has Claude breathing a little easier as he’s pushed toward Lorenz with a firm shove at his back. “He’ll be good for something,” the leader adds.</p><p>Claude bites his tongue to keep from saying anything, keeping his head down obediently and doing his best to ignore the throbbing pain in his thigh. He’s a little surprised that Lorenz put his neck out like that, but he’s immensely grateful regardless.</p><p>“That is enough!” Lorenz hisses suddenly, still gripping his lance like a lifeline even as his horse is led away.</p><p>The leader sneers, stepping closer to Lorenz with no apparent fear of the weapon in his hands. He squints down at him, laughs, then suddenly backhands Lorenz across the face, a hard and cruel satisfaction glinting in his eyes. Lorenz gasps as he stumbles back, a hand coming up to his cheek in shock.</p><p>“I get it now,” the man leers. “Boy’s more than<em> just </em>your retainer, eh?” The comment earns more laughter from the group.</p><p>Claude hisses under his breath, moving closer to them to try and salvage the situation from Lorenz’s protests. “My apologies for master Gloucester’s behaviour,” he says quickly. “We’ll go along willingly with you. We don’t want any trouble.” It rubs him completely the wrong way, acting so submissive, but he’s a lot more concerned about their lives than some asshole’s opinion of him.</p><p>It takes Lorenz a moment to register what Claude is saying at all. “What are you -”</p><p>Claude elbows him in the side, right as the leader looks at Claude with an interested glint in his eyes. “Looks like you’ve got some sense to ‘ya. Better to be locked up and intact, eh?” he snickers, gesturing for two thugs to come and wrangle Lorenz with another rope.</p><p>“If we cooperate, you’ll let us go once you’ve gotten what you want, right?” Claude continues, and the leader merely hums, eyeing them both.</p><p>“...We’ll see.”</p><p>This time Lorenz keeps his mouth shut as his lance is torn away and his hands are forcefully shoved behind his back; it’s when they suddenly shove a blindfold over his eyes that he begins to panic. “You cannot possible think you’ll get away with this!” he says desperately, even as he’s being pushed forward down the path.</p><p>Even without looking, Claude can tell how afraid Lorenz is, but by the goddess, would it kill him to shut up? It’s like he’s never had someone try to kidnap him before – which, in retrospect, might actually be the case. Claude shuts his eyes as the cloth is harshly tied over them, and he tries to track their movements as they’re paraded through the forest. The bandit leader doesn’t deign to give Lorenz a reply, and Claude soon feels himself being shoved into a cart. It lurches off soon after he hears Lorenz hit the wood too, and Claude lets out a huff. So much for trying to memorize their route. Every bump and shudder could be a turn for all he can tell, and the fading adrenaline is bringing more and more of his awareness to the arrow that is <em>still </em>painfully lodged in his thigh.</p><p>“Claude,” he hears Lorenz call out after a few minutes, quietly from the other side of the cart, voice on the edge of trembling. “Tell me you’re still here.”</p><p>Claude glances in the direction of his voice, and shifts slowly. He gets just close enough to press his side against Lorenz’s - thankfully the side with his good leg - and hopes it’ll be some comfort. He’s never heard Lorenz sound so meek. “Yeah,” he breathes, then adds when he hears the driver shift, “Master Lorenz. I’m here.”</p><p>“Do not patronize me,” Lorenz hisses. There’s a pause and a slight sound, like he might be shaking his head. “How is your leg?” His voice is strained, and Claude can hear the concern clear as day.</p><p>“About as good as it was before. Hurts like hell.” His own voice frays at the edges as he focuses on the pain again, and he takes a slow breath. From closer than he’d like, he hears one of the thugs laugh.</p><p>“Don’t worry, we’ll patch you up nice and good once we get back to base. Don’t want you losing any limbs,” she chortles. “’Least, not yet.” Claude can hear the damn grin in her voice, and he refuses to flinch, or give them any sort of satisfaction to the dumb threat.</p><p>“Well, there you have it,” Claude says to Lorenz.</p><p>“If you pass out from blood loss I will never forgive you,” Lorenz replies, and it’s as sincere a threat as Claude has ever heard him make.</p><p>“Of course, master Lorenz. That’ll keep me from fainting for sure,” he replies dryly, rolling his eyes even though neither of them can see. Still, there’s that hint of fear he can detect from Lorenz, and he sighs. “I won’t leave you. Promise.”</p><p>Before Lorenz can find a suitable reply, the cart lurches to a heavy stop, sending him crashing back against the wood. There’s the sound of a struggle, and Claude feels Lorenz flinch violently beside him, like he’s just kicked out wildly – there’s the sound of a crunch and profuse swearing, and Claude is suddenly filled with dread. “Fucking <em>bastard-</em>” he hears one of the bandits hiss, and he can guess what just happened. His stomach lurches as Lorenz gets violently dragged from the cart, and he hears a sickening blow land before the leader is yelling at the lot of them.</p><p>“Hey! Don’t hurt ‘em too bad! We need ‘em to be able to talk, damn it!”</p><p>There’s some grumbling, but Claude doesn’t hear any more hits, which he counts as a good sign. They don’t leave him sitting there by himself for long, dragging him off the cart soon after. They’re hardly careful with him, and Claude barely chokes back a scream when the arrow pushes into the side of the cart, digging further into his leg. He nearly blacks out, but that damn promise he made to Lorenz is at the forefront of his thoughts as he forces himself to stay lucid, even while he’s picked up and carried over someone’s shoulder.</p><p>He can hear a few people walking beside him, and can only assume Lorenz is either being carried as well or forced to follow after. After a bit of a walk they’re brought into a building, that much Claude can tell from the change in the atmosphere around them; for all he knows, it might be either a farm or a small fortress. The thug carries him further in, so far entirely uninterested in removing their blindfolds.</p><p>Claude breathes heavily, fighting through the pain to try and memorize at least this path. Forward a bit, right turn, down some stairs, left, right, then they stop. He hears a door skid open, and what’s probably the bandits ushering Lorenz inside, before they’re spinning around and taking him elsewhere. Claude grits his teeth, fighting down a spike of panic but reluctant to think that they might lock them up separately.</p><p>“Where are we going?” he asks, and hears a snort in response.</p><p>“To get you patched up, like the captain said. You’ll be back to your <em>master </em>in a bit, don’t you worry ‘bout that.”</p><p>The whole process ends up being as miserable as Claude had expected. They place him on a table, and there’s a short exchange, before someone puts their hand around the wound and <em>tears </em>the arrow out. Claude does scream this time, a hoarse and pained thing, and he’d physically lash out if his arms weren’t tied and if there weren’t hands pinning him down. Breathing hard, he feels warm magic pass over the quickly bleeding wound. Dimly, he realizes he’s surprised a ragtag group of thugs would have a white magic user, a thought that’s followed by the sinking feeling that these aren’t the average troupe of bandits.</p><p>They don’t heal Claude much, just enough that his skin knits back together, leaving an ache deep in his leg. He’s hauled back to his feet, and he nearly collapses, still not quite ready to put weight on the injured limb. Someone grumbles, then he’s being half carried, half dragged away. In his pained haze, it’s impossible to tell where he’s going, and he only relaxes when he hears the drag of that door again. He’s shoved inside, the door slamming shut behind him as he hits the floor.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>When Lorenz had heard Claude scream from entire rooms away – and there’s no mistaking it had been Claude – he’d thought the worst. So when he hears the door being opened and a body falling to the ground, he almost cries in relief. “Claude?” he asks into the darkness. “Is that you? Are you alright?”</p><p>“Just – peachy,” Claude hisses out, sounding dazed and in pain. He huffs, silent for a moment, and Lorenz hears him shift around. “At least I won’t be bleeding out anymore.”</p><p>“No, stay down,” Lorenz commands, already more focused than he’s been since they’re initial capture, if only for Claude’s sake. “Are you still blindfolded?</p><p>Claude doesn’t protest that order. “Yeah, but – come over here. I can get yours off.”</p><p>Lorenz nods and awkwardly scoots closer. “You will have to keep talking. I don’t – I cannot tell where you are.”</p><p>“I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you ask me to keep talking,” Claude teases, apparently trying for a joke despite the horrid situation they’re in. “Just follow my sweet, smooth voice over here. Try not to kick me or something.”</p><p>Edging forward, Lorenz follows Claude’s voice and only stops when his shin accidentally bumps into Claude’s temple.</p><p>“I said don’t,” Claude grouses with a grunt, but works on slowly rolling himself upright. Lorenz hears him shuffling, and then his knees are bumping into Lorenz’s thigh. “Okay, this is going to be a bit awkward, but don’t freak out on me,” he warns.</p><p>Lorenz flinches when he feels Claude’s nose bump into his shoulder, before moving upwards a bit, Claude’s breath ghosting against his neck before his nose is brushing against Lorenz’s cheek. With a stilted heartbeat, Lorenz realizes this is quite possibly the most intimate situation he’s ever been in. Despite everything that’s happened, that <em>is</em> happening, it’s enough to send shivers down his spine. He feels Claude shift, before grabbing at the blindfold with his teeth, yanking it off Lorenz’s head with a few awkward but efficient tugs.</p><p>A nervous laugh escapes Lorenz’s lips, and he thinks he might finally be losing it. He blinks a few times, though it’s so dark his eyes take barely any time to adjust. “Should I even ask where you learned to do that?”</p><p>“Do you really want to know?” Claude shoots back once he’s dropped the fabric from his mouth. “What do you see?”</p><p>“It’s dark,” Lorenz intelligently notes, but he looks around regardless. “The room seems empty,” he adds after a moment’s searching, then turns to give Claude a once-over. His breath hitches when he catches sight of Claude’s leg; his pants are soaked in blood, giving Lorenz a sudden, heady sense of nausea. “You look horrible.” Deciding he needs to distract himself, he nudges Claude’s shoulder with his own and tersely tells him, “Lie down. I am going to return the favour.”</p><p>Claude manages a grin, shifting to lay back. “Oh? Prefer to do it laying down?”</p><p>“I am going to use my hands, you uncivilized twat.” There’s no real ire in Lorenz’s tone. In fact, the banter does a bit to ease his nerves.</p><p>“Careful,” Claude huffs, and perhaps with good reason. It’s awkward at best, but Lorenz manages to maneuver himself so his hands are in the vicinity of Claude’s head, and is then able to grab at the fabric and pull it up and off. Claude opens his eyes and blinks a bit, adjusting to what little light there is that’s filtered through under the door. He looks up at Lorenz, then sits up, wincing as he shifts his arms. “Well... this kind of sucks, huh?”</p><p>Lorenz grimaces, all traces of humor gone at the reminder of their situation. “Indeed. I cannot – I am sorry. About this. It clearly isn’t you they were after.”</p><p>Claude merely snorts. “That’s on them. They don’t even realize they have a more valuable hostage, but that’s for the best. Kinda surprised you were the one they were after.” As he speaks, Claude’s eyes scan the room, trying to make anything out. “Just make sure you don’t say my full name. Calling me Claude was risky enough; we’re lucky everyone apparently hates me too much to remember who I really am.”</p><p>And doesn’t that make Lorenz feel like a fool. “I do not know what it is they’re after,” he sighs. From the hall, he can hear the sounds of heavy boots passing back and forth, and all he can do is hope whoever is on the other end of the door doesn’t decide to visit their captives. His uselessness stings more than the bruise that’s been steadily forming over his jaw; at least Claude had managed to eliminate a few of their attackers before he went down. “We need to get out,” he decides, shaking his head as if to rid himself of those thoughts. He is <em>above </em>giving in to despair. “If we are lucky, we will be left along for long enough that we can come up with a plan.” It’s a sensible idea, but more than that, focusing on that gives him something more to focus on than his own fear.</p><p>Claude nods. “Well, at the very least, Judith will be on a warpath when she finds out I’m missing. Did you see them catch my horse? If it got away, word will come pretty quickly to the Alliance leaders.”</p><p>“I regret to point this out, but your horse was injured. We cannot trust that he will last even one day.” Lorenz sighs, but then perks up when he’s struck with an idea. “Claude, how long would it take to wear down the rope? If we had something sharp?”</p><p>Claude blinks. “Uh, maybe a few minutes? You know that even if we do get them off, we’re in the basement of some building with no weapons or supplies on us. And I’m injured.”</p><p>Lorenz frowns, a little put-out that his suggestion was shot down so quickly. “So we will not even try? You cannot be giving up.”</p><p>“I’m not giving up, but we need more information before we do anything rash,” Claude sighs, shaking his head. “It’s best to bide your time in situations like these – either they’ll slip up, or someone will come crashing in.”</p><p>Lorenz doesn’t want to think about how familiar Claude seems to be with this sort of situation. “We might not have time,” he sniffs, giving a pointed look at Claude’s leg. He immediately regrets it. “I doubt they will get any nicer.”</p><p>Claude sighs again. “I hear you, but not yet. I think I memorized the route they took to get in here, but we need to know a bit more. Hopefully they won’t blindfold us again.”</p><p>With a slow exhale, Lorenz shifts so that he’s a least a little more comfortable. “Do you suppose it might be better to tell them the truth? About you? I... worry. Clearly they see you as expendable.”</p><p>“Maybe so, but the leverage they’d have if they found out about me would triple. If I’m about to get offed, then maybe. But they’ll underestimate us for now, <em>and </em>the people who will come looking for us.” Claude moves as well, kneeling. “Just for a day, Lorenz. We lay low, watch, keep everything secret, and plan.”</p><p>Lorenz nods, too tired to argue further. “One day. And then-”</p><p>Before he can continue further, the door is shoved open yet again, showering them both in light that Lorenz has to squint at.</p><p>The bandit that enters snarls when he sees their blindfolds discarded on the floor. “Clever boys.” He’s the one that had dragged Claude away to get his leg patched up. “Shame it don’t matter much. One of you brats is coming with me. Don’t care which one.”</p><p>Claude pulls himself up a bit. “I’ll go,” he says, without any sort of hesitation. “Already got hurt once, yeah? Best to keep master Lorenz safe for now.”</p><p>“Absolutely not,” Lorenz hisses, regretting that he can’t shove Claude back down. “You’ve already been injured, be <em>sensible</em>,” he adds, to which Claude shoots him a glare.</p><p>At the door, the thug chuckles, seeming to find some entertainment in their banter. Having come to a decision, he steps forward and forcefully grabs Lorenz by the arm. “You’ll do.”</p><p>“Hey, you know I’m more cooperative than him!” Claude argues as Lorenz is dragged to his feet, stumbling after them. “His head is too far up his own ass to listen!”</p><p>Even as he’s being lifted from the ground, Lorenz shoots Claude an indignant look, but he doesn’t have time to say anything before he’s being shoved out into the hall. The bandit cackles, then pushes Claude further back into the room. “Ya scared for him?” he sneers. “Don’t be. We’ll treat him real nice.” The man steps out into the hall, and is almost immediately replaced by a burly woman with an expression that looks less than pleased.</p><p>Claude stumbles back from the shove, his balance lacking without the use of his arms. He nearly tries to run after them, but is dissuaded by the appearance of the woman, tensing up. Separate interrogations, is it? Alone in the cell with this stranger, he prays Lorenz says nothing incriminating. The woman slams the door shut behind her, and Claude is thrown into the dark once more.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>sorry for the slow start, things are going to get spicy soon.....</p><p>comments are super appreciated because i have never written anything like this before and i don't know what I'm doing!! i'm especially anxious about pacing and tone. is it good?? bad???? does anything make sense??????</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Interrogation</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>There's some hurt, then some comfort, then a lot of hurt and a lot less comfort, but they're trying their best. Important conversations are not had.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A NOTE ON THE TIMELINE: in chapter 1 we said it was mid-summer, then duwangu pointed out that doesn't match our timeline for later events at ALL, so i'm going back and editing that. Officially, this is taking place in late fall with the assumption that the Leicester territories aren't as cold as the rest of Fodlan. Also, Fodlan gets spelled without the fun accent because i said so.</p><p>this chapter is... a lot. by which i mean claude gets punched a lot. among other things, soooo content warnings at the bottom of the page. </p><p>this chapter is ALSO incredibly long. at first i was like 'oof i won't have enough words in the second chapter so i'll merge 2 and 3 together' and then 2 alone was 8000+ words so uhhh no merging.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The cell Claude’s trapped in is dark for only a moment. A warm glow engulfs the space as the woman who had walked in casts a small bit of fire from the palm of her hand. She holds it up like a torch; in the dim lighting, she looks even more disgruntled than she did before. But now Claude can see at least her most basic features: broad shoulders, hair tied back in a rough ponytail, and a tight and angry expression that doesn’t bode well for Claude.</p><p>He squints at her, then at the fire. “You here to give me some burns or something? Thought the arrow was enough.”</p><p>The woman steps forward and, without warning, backhands Claude across the face. His head whips to the side, and he grimaces at the pain stinging his cheek. <em>I doubt they’ll get any nicer,</em> Lorenz had said. Well. Maybe he’ll be happy to hear he wasn’t wrong.</p><p>“None of your sass,” the woman growls. “I know a bastard Almyran dog when I see one. Speak back again and next time I’ll be usin’ my good hand.” As if to illustrate, she raises the hand with the flame, holding it nice and close.</p><p>A rush of panic spikes through Claude, but he keeps his shoulders relaxed and schools his expression into something he knows is neutral. “How’d you tell? Everyone else seems pretty sure I’m from Fodlan.” It’s easy to keep his voice even, but he’s thankful for the dim light anyways; she won’t be able to see the uncertainty in his eyes.</p><p>“These idiots couldn’t tell a horse from a cow, but I’ve sailed the Almyran coast for years. I know what your filth looks like.” There’s a tone of pride in the woman’s voice, and Claude instantly decides he doesn’t like it.<br/>
<br/>
He forces out a laugh and shrugs. “That’s true. Saves my hide, though – hard enough for<em> my filth </em>to find work here, am I right?”</p><p>With a growl, the woman effortlessly lifts Claude by the collar and rushes him into the stone wall, hard, crushing his arms behind his back<em>.</em> “I’ve just about had enough of your mouth.”</p><p>Claude wheezes, the breath knocked right out of him. Still, he awkwardly smiles at her. “Already? We’ve just met.”</p><p>Holding him against the wall, the woman brings the fire right up to Claude’s cheek. “We only need one of you. Either shut your mouth until I ask you to talk, or lose your tongue. I’m happy either way.”<br/>
<br/>
Claude eyes the fire, and wisely shuts up. He’s not eager to actually die down here – Lorenz will be a <em>mess</em> without him.</p><p>The flame stays nice and close, and Claude can feel the moisture leaving his eyes. “Your noble brat was supposed to be travellin’ with a second party. Where’d you split?”</p><p>“A second party?” Claude echoes, feigning confusion. “Unless you mean me, there’s was no one else travelling with us.” And oh, how ironic is this?<br/>
<br/>
The woman slams him into the wall again, and his head knocks back against the stone. “Don’t play coy with me, dog. Riegan is meant to be at the round table. Where is he?”</p><p>Claude swallows, then speaks quickly as if he’s panicking, which really isn’t so far off the mark. “If you mean Lord Riegan, he’s already in Derdriu, and his heir went out earlier. Master Lorenz can’t stand the guy – wants him dead, I’m pretty sure. They were supposed to go out together, but the guy took off already.” Acting disappointed, he sighs once he’s done; it stings a little, knowing some of those words might not be entirely false. Or maybe the sting is just his elbows scraping against the stone.</p><p>“How far ahead?” the woman presses, and the flame steadily makes its way closer, near enough that the skin of Claude’s cheek is starting to pink, and he winces. He expects it won’t be long before he blisters, but he doesn’t squirm, just puts up with the near scalding.</p><p>“He was gone by the time we got to the stables this morning. That’s all I know.”</p><p>If his assailant believes him, she gives no outer sign of it – what she does do is douse her flame, then punch Claude hard in the stomach. She lets him fall to the floor, and he collapses, coughing hard and fighting back a wave of nausea, curling up as best he can and sorely wishing he had use of his arms. He can’t help but add in a strained voice, “And here I thought we were getting along so well.”</p><p>The woman pushes a boot down hard onto his ribs and keeps it there. “Anythin’ you want to add to your story?”</p><p>Claude grits his teeth, biting back any sort of noise. “Not really – I told you everything I know,” he wheezes.</p><p>“Hmph.” She pushes down harder still, and Claude feels like his ribs might collapse under the weight. “You better hope you and your master’s stories line up, dog. My friends are gettin’ tired of playin’ nice.” Finally, <em>finally, </em>she releases her foot, giving Claude one final shove with the heel of her boot. Without another word, she’s stalking off and opening the door, then steps out into the hall and slams it shut behind her.<br/>
<br/>
Claude groans once she’s gone, breath coming out in pants. He shuts his eyes as he tries to focus past the pain and the sudden chill deep in his stomach. The chances of their stories lining up without any sort of planning are next to none, and he dreads to think of what these people will do when they find out.</p><p> </p><p>He’s left in the dark for some time, after that, alone with nothing but his worried thoughts. When the door finally slides open again, Lorenz is pushed in and shoved unceremoniously to the floor, the bandits closing the door shut behind him.<br/>
<br/>
Claude looks up from where he’s curled up, not having the energy to scoot over to him just yet, but there’s a spark of concern in his voice when he asks, “What happened with you?”<br/>
<br/>
For a moment, Lorenz is uncharacteristically quiet. From what Claude can see in the dark, the man doesn’t seem physically worse for wear other than looking dishevelled. But after a few seconds of squinting, he can see Lorenz’s eyes have this glazed over look to them. In the silence, it’s easy to hear the raspy quality of his breathing. He doesn’t look at Claude.<br/>
<br/>
Frowning, Claude struggles to sit upright. He groans when all his aches and pains are disturbed, but he doesn’t let that stop him as he shuffles over to Lorenz. He lays beside him, and the lack of protest is starting to freak Claude out. Gently, he presses his shoulder against Lorenz’s chest to offer some bizarre form of comfort. “Hey. I need you here with me, Lorenz. Stay with me.”</p><p>At the contact, Lorenz starts, his eyes widening until they settle on Claude in front of him. His shoulders visibly relax, but Claude notices he’s trembling.<br/>
<br/>
“Claude,” Lorenz breathes, but his voice has taken on the quality of sandpaper, and it comes out sounding a little pathetic.</p><p>Claude has to force down a swell of anger at whatever the hell they did to make Lorenz like this. He nods, moving closer, practically pressing up completely against Lorenz in the best substitute he has for a hug as he lets his forehead rest against Lorenz’s collar. “Yeah. I’m still here.”</p><p>Grimacing, Lorenz takes a rattling breath and leans into Claude, squeezing his eyes shut. “I’m – I’ll be okay,” he manages, but he sounds like he might be trying not to cry.</p><p>“You don’t need to be,” Claude replies, gentle and sincere. “At least for now, alright? You can put on the brave face when we get out of here, or when they come back. I’m not going to judge you.”</p><p>In truth, it’s a bit awkward, being so close to Lorenz like this. This morning, Claude would have been happy to actually leave Garreg Mach without him, but now his chest clenches at the thought of leaving Lorenz alone. Obviously, the noble wasn’t prepared to deal with anything like this, what with the easy life he’s probably had; Claude wishes he at least got to be a bit older before something like this inevitably happened.</p><p>After a moment, Lorenz huffs out what might be a laugh. He also might be crying. Claude can’t quite tell, so he keeps his face pressed against Lorenz’s collar to spare him any embarrassment he might feel. “I’m sorry,” Lorenz says quietly.</p><p>“For what? Getting kidnapped? C’mon, you know that wasn’t your fault.” Claude maintains an easy tone, trying to lighten up the mood.</p><p>But Lorenz just shakes his head, letting out a single sob into Claude’s shoulder. Now he’s outright shaking.</p><p>Claude grimaces, and gently tangles one of his legs with Lorenz’s, again trying to come as close as he can to giving his classmate a hug. “It’s alright. I’ll get us out of here. Promise,” he murmurs, hoping the soothing words will calm Lorenz, let him cry it all out.</p><p>And cry Lorenz does, for a good few minutes. It says something about the state he’s in that he doesn’t once protest the intimacy, and he’s entirely uncaring as he soaks Claude’s shoulder. Claude stays there through it, pressing close against Lorenz and letting himself be a solid presence amidst the man’s sorrow.</p><p>Eventually, Lorenz quiets down to the occasional sniffle, shivering sadly beside Claude, and Claude digs his chin in a little in a horrible pantomime of tighter hug. “You good?”</p><p>Lorenz’s answering laugh is still pretty pathetic, but at least he doesn’t sound quite so delirious this time. “I think-” he starts; his breath hitches in his throat and his teeth won’t stop chattering, but he pushes on anyway, “- I think they drugged me.”</p><p>“Oh.” Claude feels a bit stupid, now, thinking Lorenz had suddenly been so willingly open with him. Of course he was drugged. Probably more than that, if he’s being open with Claude of all people. “To make you tell the truth, huh? What did you say to them?”</p><p>“N-no. It wasn’t – that.” Lorenz closes his eyes, visibly trying to string together a coherent sentence. “Said it was an inhibitor. Didn’t – they don’t want me <em>trying </em>anything.” He scoffs and smiles ruefully against Claude. “Wrong person, right?”</p><p>Claude chuckles. “Yeah. Glad to be underestimated,” he hums, pulling back a bit to look at Lorenz. “Is that all they did? Drug you up and throw you in here? They didn’t ask you anything?”</p><p>Lorenz shakes his head and, with a worryingly weak voice, says, “Please don’t ask about that.”</p><p>“I need to know,” Claude replies, frowning. “I need to know if we’re totally fucked here, because they asked me about some things, and we’re supposed to have the same story. I need to come up with a reason for it being different.”</p><p>“...oh.” Lorenz bites his lip, trying to recall what had happened. “They asked me about... you. Where you’d gone.”</p><p>“Right. I told them the Riegan heir left before we did, and that is was probably this morning. And I said that you hate him and probably want him dead, so some of it should line up. Unless you suddenly professed undying love for me,” Claude sighs, watching Lorenz carefully. “And you?”</p><p>“I don’t want you dead.” Lorenz sounds mildly offended.</p><p>Claude pauses. “Uh – well, good. I mean, I figure your life would be a lot easier with me out of the way, so I’m touched. But I really need to know what happened, Lorenz.”</p><p>Lorenz releases a rattling breath. “I told them much the same, I think, that – that you had left earlier. But they didn’t -” His voice breaks, and he closes his eyes again. “It was no use. They didn’t believe me.”</p><p>For a moment, Claude is relieved; both of them saying he had left the monastery early is something he can work with. It’s far more than he could have expected, really. But there’s more to it. “Why? What did they do to you, Lorenz?”</p><p>“I don’t <em>know </em>why,” Lorenz hisses, clearly distressed. “<em>Please</em> don’t ask.”</p><p>Claude swallows, and there’s a clawing dread in the pit of his stomach, threatening to bubble out. These thugs are bastards, certainly, but to be so depraved...</p><p>“I – Lorenz, did they -” Claude starts, and he knows Lorenz asked him not to pry, he <em>knows, </em>but he can’t let this go so easily. He can’t let himself keep thinking it without <em>knowing. </em>”Did they violate you? Is that what happened?”</p><p>Lorenz shakes his head again, his breathing coming out harsher, making that sandpaper tone sound even worse. “It was – threats, mostly. Empty words. Claude, <em>please. </em>Don’t make me talk about this.”</p><p>Claude feels his nails digging into his fists; they didn’t act on it, thank the <em>goddess</em>, but to still threaten him- “Let me go, next time. I can handle this stuff. You’re barely hanging in there as is, and I’m the best at talking my way out of things. Don’t try to play hero again.” And Claude should be worried about how he’s throwing himself to the wolves like this, but mostly he doesn’t give a shit. He can’t let something like this happen to Lorenz.</p><p>“They’re after <em>you,</em> I can’t -” Lorenz’s breath hitches again, and he buries his face in Claude’s collar. “I should apologize, this is pathetic, I – I shouldn’t be so rattled.”</p><p>“Hey, it’s okay. I was probably worse the first time this happened,” Claude murmurs, nosing gently at the top of Lorenz’s frankly horrendous haircut. “Just let me take care of it, okay? They’re after us both, but I have the advantage of being unrecognized.”</p><p>It seems to take a moment for Claude’s words to get through to Lorenz, but after a moment, he frowns. “...what do you mean, <em>the first </em>time?” He’s still shaking horribly, and he shuffles closer to lean into Claude’s warmth, finally giving in and accepting the comfort that’s offered.</p><p>Claude snorts at the question. Of course that’s the part that Lorenz picks up on; always trying to sniff out Claude’s backstory, even here. He isn’t happy, having to divulge anything from his past, but under the circumstances he’ll make a single exception. With any luck, Lorenz will never meet the woman who had immediately recognized his heritage.</p><p>“My life wasn’t... easy, before I stepped into the limelight. I was a pretty wanted man – not the good kind of wanted, either. So this isn’t the first time this has happened. What can I say? I’m too popular for my own good.”</p><p>“A wanted man?” Claude can tell Lorenz thinks that’s important, but he also seems to be struggling to to hold onto anything for longer than a few seconds. “... was it bad?”</p><p>“Oh, horrible. They hated an outsider like me. Pretty scary stuff for a kid,” Claude chuckles. “But it makes things easier now. You really think I could stay this calm if I wasn’t used to this?”</p><p>“A kid,” Lorenz echoes. “That is... barbaric.”</p><p>“Well, I was twelve, so it wasn’t <em>that</em> young,” Claude hums. “Either way, it just means I can handle this better. So let me make the decisions, okay?”</p><p>Claude can see Lorenz’s eyes lidding over, even as he forces himself to stay awake. “That isn’t fair to you,” Lorenz mumbles.</p><p>“It’ll make me feel way better,” Claude replies, determined to get a promise out of Lorenz before he can pass out. “Trust me.”</p><p>But Lorenz is already on his way out, and while he doesn’t say anything more, he nods into Claude’s neck.</p><p>With nothing else for it, Claude sighs, letting Lorenz go peacefully. That’s all he needs from him. All he hopes for is that Lorenz actually remembered everything he told those bandits. For now, though, he’ll make sure Lorenz can sleep – he isn’t sure how many times either of them will get the chance.</p><p>Lorenz is still shaking against Claude, and the quality of his breathing is ragged at best, and Claude isn’t sure how much rest he’ll be able to manage. He shifts a bit, trying to press against the noble as much as he can to comfort him. Softly, he starts humming an Almyran lullaby his nursemaid used to sing when he was little. He hopes it provides some semblance of comfort to Lorenz, like it had to Claude so many years ago.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Their moment of peace doesn’t last.</p><p>Heavy footfalls sound from the outer hall, getting louder and louder until the door is being shoved open again, light pouring over the pair of them on the floor. Having heard someone approaching, Claude had carefully pulled himself away from Lorenz, who jerks awake at the sudden noise. It had been almost impossible to tell in the dark, but with the new light Claude can see a litany of dark bruises poking out from the high collar of Lorenz’s jacket, and, well. That explains his horrible breathing.</p><p>There’s no time to dwell on it as the woman from earlier walks in; she doesn’t bother closing the door. Behind her, a man hovers in the doorway, arms crossed and leering at Claude with disdain and something else. Something Claude doesn’t want to name.</p><p>Looking up, Claude manages a smile at the woman, though his eyes are cooler than they’ve been in a long time. “Ah, back so soon?”<br/>
<br/>
She spits at Claude’s feet. “You had to make things harder for yourselves. We’re not pleased boy.”</p><p>On the floor, Lorenz is tense, but he manages to sit up, avoiding making eye contact with any of them.</p><p>Claude narrows his eyes at her. “What do you mean? We both told you the truth. The Riegan heir left long before us.”</p><p>“The thing is,” the woman growls, “we’ve been scoutin’ these routes for days. Ain’t no way we would’ve missed him. So you better start telling me the truth, or things are going to get real ugly.” Behind her, the other thug shifts in anticipation. “Now talk.”</p><p><em>Days</em>? They’ve been planning this for a while, then. Sighing, Claude glances back at Lorenz, then at the pair in the doorway. He fakes a pretty convincing reluctant look, keeping his eyes on the ground. “Look. There’s... another route he took. I don’t know all the details, they won’t tell most people, but I hear it’s somewhere along the border. Just – if they found out I told you, well... I don’t think I’ll be around for long.”</p><p>Lorenz looks at Claude in alarm, and Claude can’t tell if he’s acting or not, but the woman only grunts and narrows her eyes at Claude. “And why should I believe you this time?”</p><p>“Because I told you the truth last time?” Claude replies, looking at her with wide eyes. “Listen, I’m really not interested in you breaking my ribs this time. I’m telling the truth.”</p><p>“Again with the sass,” she growls, and tilts her head toward the man at the door. “Rough ‘em up a bit.”</p><p>The man cocks a grin, cracking his knuckles. “Anything for you, Darlen,” he growls, and Claude grimaces. He could get on Lorenz’s case for not knowing how to handle situations like this, but apparently he’s no better. He shuts his eyes as the thug approaches, bracing himself for an attack, but it doesn’t come. Instead, he hears a loud thud, and quickly looks over to see a boot connecting with Lorenz’s jaw. Claude hisses, jerking, and it’s enough to get the man’s attention; he happily grabs Claude by the throat, lifting him up, and Claude chokes, eyes widening without any way to even claw at the hands around him. He’s bodily tossed into Lorenz, then everything’s a blur as a barrage of kicks and stomps follow. He hears Lorenz cry out in pain, and Claude wheezes when they guy suddenly presses a boot down on his chest, crushing Lorenz’s shoulder underneath him, too. He thinks he feels a rib crack, and finally the thug gets the signal to let up.</p><p>Both himself and Lorenz are bloodied and bruised, and Claude sucks in gulps of air while he can, chest aching. Behind him, Lorenz’s breaths are coming out in pained gasps.</p><p>The woman – Darlen – steps forward and crouches down in front of them, seemingly unfazed by the display of violence. She reaches forward, pulling Claude up by the hair with a firm grip. “Try again, boy.”</p><p>Claude whines at the back of his throat, unable to fully tamp down on the noise as he’s pulled upward, and unable to shift much to alleviate the pain.</p><p>From the floor, Lorenz lets out a sob. “Please,” he wheezes, “he’s already told you what you want to know.”</p><p>Darlen snorts and pulls Claude further off the ground. “Yeah? I’ll tell you this; never trust an Almyran dog to tell the truth.”</p><p>Someone might have dumped an entire bucket of ice over Claude, for the sudden cold that washes over him, his heart pounding; Lorenz learning he’s Almyran might be the worst possible outcome – he’s the worst possible <em>person </em>to know, outside of Count Gloucester himself.</p><p>Lorenz’s eyes widen, and a look of disbelief crosses his face when his eyes turn to Claude. He’s rendered speechless, and of course Darlen notices the sudden tension. She barks out a laugh, the gleam in her eye suggesting she’s just found something much more fun to play with.</p><p>“You didn’t know?” Another laugh. “Stupid fuckin’ noble, of course you didn’t.” She throws Claude back down to the ground. “Good thing he’s only a retainer. Inconsequential for you.”</p><p>Claude grits his teeth, still breathing hard as he presses his forehead to the ground. There’s no way to deny the allegation, not without asking for another beating. And he’ll have no chance of escaping if he sustains too many wounds. He hopes he can salvage this situation with Lorenz somehow, but that comes later. For now, he pointedly doesn’t look at the other man, instead keeping his focus on his interrogator.</p><p>“Do you believe me yet?” He rasps, trying to shift the topic. The thug in the back looks far too pleased about how events have played out, like he’s just itching to lay his hands on them again.</p><p>Crouching down once more, Darlen takes a wicked looking knife from her boot and casually pushes the tip against Claude’s neck. “How do you know which route Riegan took?”</p><p>Claude would swallow down his nerves, but that would only push his skin into the blade. “I overheard him talking with one of the professors,” he replies, voice tight. “No one pays attention to a retainer like me – especially Almyran servants, so I... eavesdrop, sometimes. Make sure no one is plotting anything against – against Master Lorenz.” He tips his head back a little, eyes nervous as he focuses on the knife. “I think they wanted to send an escort with him, but it sounded like he refused.”</p><p>Lorenz is still staring at Claude like he’s grown a second head – or turned into a demonic beast, maybe. And now isn’t the time for that at all, and <em>yet.</em></p><p>The knife pushes forward, a bead of blood welling at the tip. “What else do you know?”</p><p>Refraining from moving as best he can, Claude shuts his eyes. “Look, that’s it, I swear. I just know he left on whatever secret route important nobles take, and he didn’t take Master Lorenz with him because they hate each other. That and – they’ll be expecting us in Derdriu by tomorrow. An escort will be sent if we don’t show up.”</p><p>Darlen holds the knife there a moment longer, then retracts it with the flick of her wrist. “Know somethin’? I don’t actually give a shit.” Getting to her feet, she hands the blade to her companion. “Do what you want,” she says. “Boss’ll be here tomorrow, she’ll know what to do with ‘em. Ain’t my problem anymore.”</p><p>The thug nods, taking the knife with a smile. “Sure thing. You know I’ll leave ‘em in tact. Well. Mostly.”</p><p>Claude looks up at Darlen, sitting up slowly. “I tell you all of that, and you’ll still let him wail on us?” he scoffs. “Really is no honour among thieves, huh-”</p><p>He gets cut off as the thug kicks him in the stomach, making him jerk forward as he tries not to wretch.</p><p> </p><p>Lorenz starts, finally snapping back to his senses as Claude gasps on the floor. “That is enough!” he demands, though it’s impossible to tell if he’s talking to Claude or the bandits; the demand loses whatever weight it might have held when his voice cracks on the last word. “Please,” he implores, talking to Darlen. “We’ve done nothing but cooperate with you.”</p><p>Darlen either doesn’t hear or doesn’t care, as she walks out into the hall without a backward glance. The man left behind, however, has a few things he wants to say.<br/>
<br/>
“Your boy and his bow got half a dozen men. Friends o’ mine, the lot of them,” the man sneers. “A few bruises seems like a good enough exchange to me, don’tcha think?” He steps over Claude with one last kick to his side, and Claude falls over with a wheeze, blinking back tears. “C’mon. Wouldn’tcha want to beat up a smart mouth like him? I hear you Gloucesters hate Almyrans.” The man grins, eyes sharp, not noticing as Claude reaches for his ankle beneath him.</p><p>Lorenz’s eyes flicker over to Claude, then back up to their assailant. “No, that – <em>no.</em> ” He flounders for a moment, trying to keep the man’s attention. <em>He’s supposed to be good with words. </em> “He’s had enough,” is what he settles with, and he immediately regrets that he has never been a good liar – although, that part <em>is </em>true. But Claude gives Lorenz a warning look, trying to convey something with his eyes that Lorenz is opting to ignore.</p><p>The bandit suddenly kicks Claude’s hand away, before stomping down on it, looking between the two of them as Claude lets out a pained gasp. “Both trying to play hero, eh? You really think I ain’t gonna take good care o’ the lot of you?” he sneers, continuing to walk over to Lorenz. “Gotta say, it’s satisfying on both ends here. An Almyran <em>and </em>a stuck up noble to play with? Must be my lucky day.” With a laugh, he suddenly kicks out again, pushing his foot down hard on Lorenz’s chest and pressing him into the ground.</p><p>Lorenz gasps out a breath as all the air is pushed from his lungs, squeezing his eyes shut as he tries to focus through the fear and the pain. “We’re no good to you dead,” he grits out.</p><p>“Oh, I know, boy. I ain’t stupid enough to get ya killed,” he chuckles, leaning down to press closer to Lorenz, the pressure increasing against his chest. He’s completely pinned, he can’t <em>breathe – </em>the panic is enough to overwhelm him, and that’s <em>before</em> the bandit leans down and traces the knife against Lorenz’s cheek. “Much as I want to use this beauty, I’ll keep it away for now. Don’t want to take anything off before the boss gets here.” The drag of the blade pulls a pained whimper from Lorenz, and the thug only smiles wider at the show of pain.</p><p>“Don’t think you can leave a mark, huh?” Claude asks from where he’s pulled himself up, straining closer to them. “They really do have you whipped,” he laughs breathlessly, voice still ragged.<br/>
<br/>
The thug whirls on him, glowering. “What did you say?” he hisses, pushing off Lorenz.</p><p>With the releases of pressure, Lorenz takes in a gulping breath, curling in on himself as soon as the bandit steps away.</p><p>“Sorry, that too hard to get through your thick skull?” Claude jokes – before the man grabs him by the hair and slams him face first into the floor. Lorenz hears a sickening crunch, and cries out, but he goes ignored as the bandit flicks out his knife and holds it against Claude’s back.</p><p>“You ain’t going anywhere, you little shit,” he growls as Claude struggles beneath him, pressing a knee to the small of his back to pin him down. He grabs Claude by the hair again, using the knife to carve along the back of his jacket and shirt, easily tearing the fabric away soon enough and leaving Claude’s back bare to the cold. The only point of this is an exercise in humiliation, and it makes Lorenz sick.</p><p>Breathing hard, Claude gives Lorenz a warning look, expression strained as the man chuckles above him. But every threat Lorenz had received earlier is at the forefront of his mind. He tries to speak up, but the words get caught in his throat; he’s terrified out of his mind. When Claude catches his eye, he mouths a shaky <em>don’t do this</em>, his nails digging bloody grooves into his hands behind his back.</p><p>The bandit looks up at Lorenz, grinning at him, and there’s nothing but dripping malice behind that look. “Aw, you scared for your little plaything?” he practically coos, the sound sending a shiver down Lorenz’s spine. He digs his knee harder into Claude’s back. “I’d love to take him in front o’ you, but the others would kill me if I took first dibs. But hey. When the boss gets back, I’m sure she’ll let us show you both a good time.”</p><p>The man presses down against Claude even further, wide eyes close to looking unhinged, but Claude keeps his eyes on Lorenz, grounding him, and it’s all Lorenz can do to maintain that connection, even as their assailant speaks again.</p><p>“Who’d you prefer get taken first, mister noble? Yourself, or your little Almyran slut?”<br/>
<br/>
Lorenz is visibly trembling now, and this time it has nothing to do with being drugged. He doesn’t answer, just shakes his head again and keeps his eyes locked on Claude’s, even though all he wants to do is look away. <em>This is worse for Claude, </em>he thinks; he refuses to be the first to buckle when he’s not the one being pressed against the floor at knife point.</p><p>His obvious fear only spurs the man on, and Claude twists a tiny bit again as the knife goes lower, all the way down to where his wrists are tied. He grinds his knee into Claude until he has to still from the pain, breath coming out in pained pants. “No answer?” The man leers, then smiles up at Lorenz. “Or you too shy to throw him to us in front of his face?” He’s back to carving thin bleeding lines along Claude’s back, and still Claude bears with it. “Bet an Almyran dog like him enjoys being treated like an animal.”</p><p>Listening to the man talk, Lorenz has no idea if it would be better to answer or to keep his mouth shut. He thinks acknowledging the words will only spur the thug on more, and in the beat of silence Claude manages to mouth a quick <em>I’m alright. </em>Clenching his jaw, Lorenz keeps his gaze away from the bandit, looking at Claude with a renewed sense of determination. If Claude can be strong, then by the goddess, so will he.</p><p>The thug grunts, obviously displeased with the lack of reaction. When he finally pushes off Claude to stand, Claude wheezes as the knee digs hard into his back, leaving him quivering from the pain. The man stalks over to Lorenz, grabbing his chin to angle it towards him. “You’re damn boring, you know that? Haven’t heard a peep from you. If you don’t answer, I’m gonna mess up that pretty face of yours something awful.”</p><p>Lorenz is hit with a wave of dread so strong it feels as though his heart drops down to his stomach. Even so, he makes a valiant effort not to immediately cower. “I – I believe she said you aren’t allowed to.”</p><p>“I can’t permanently harm ya, but a black eye won’t be too much,” the man laughs, grip tightening. Over his shoulder, Lorenz can see Claude giving him a slow nod, like he needs encouragement to try not to let himself get beat by this man. Though with how bruised Lorenz’s face already feels, he doubts a black eye will make all that much of a difference. Clenching his teeth, he grits out, “Our relationship is purely professional.”</p><p>Claude grimaces, while the thug barks out a laugh. “Professional, eh? That why you take him with you to yer little academy and dress him up?” And really, if he weren’t in such a horrible situation, Lorenz would be baffled at the inaccuracy of their information. <em>None </em> of the nobles in their house had brought over a retainer. Just <em>who</em> had told them what they needed to know?</p><p>The bandit snickers, and finally drops Lorenz’s chin, standing up. He looks between Lorenz and Claude, eyes narrowing. “Don’t you expect things to stay professional for long,” he says ominously, before finally, <em>finally </em>making for the door. Lorenz doesn’t dare to even breathe until he’s gone.</p><p>Once the door closes, he lets his head fall back against the stone and squeezes his eyes shut. With the threat finally gone, all the adrenaline rushes out of him, leaving him with a heady sense of nausea.</p><p>“Claude,” Lorenz croaks eventually, turning to face him even though the room is now dark. “Are you alright?”</p><p>Claude tries to chuckle, but it ends up as more of a rough cough. “As good as I can be,” he replies sorely, cheek still pressed to the cool floor. “Good thing that guy was way too scared to do much, huh?” he tries to joke, flashing Lorenz a small smile.</p><p>“Scared?” Lorenz’s own laugh comes out sounding slightly hysterical. “You cannot be serious.”</p><p>Claude shrugs, but seems to regret it pretty quickly when he hisses with a wince. “Could’ve been worse,” he says, eyes shutting. “And we probably have the evening to ourselves.”</p><p>The silver lining is only mildly reassuring, and Lorenz doesn’t have anything to say after that. He simply closes his eyes and takes a shuddering breath, curling up on himself as he tries to distance himself from everything that’s just happened. When he next speaks, his voice is much more meek. “How are you so... unflinching?” It isn’t fair, that Claude seems able to take all this without being completely disheartened.</p><p>Claude thinks on that for a moment. “Because you need me to be,” he says softly.</p><p>There’s a hitch of breath, and without his consent, Lorenz’s tears begin to fall. He tries to bite down on the sound; he’s had enough of crying and being utterly useless. “How is that fair to you?”</p><p>“I’m your house leader. Kinda my job to take care of you,” Claude hums. “I don’t want you losing that outlook of yours in a place like this.”</p><p>“As if I haven’t been trying to denounce your leadership since the beginning,” Lorenz sniffs.</p><p>Turning his head, Claude looks over at Lorenz, ignoring the argument. “You up to shuffling over here?”</p><p>Hearing Claude’s query, Lorenz decides he’s better than to act like this. He can handle this, bruises and trauma be damned. He does as Claude asks, scooting over bit by bit and hissing as the movement jostles his ribs.</p><p>When he’s close enough, Claude wiggles a tiny bit closer and shocks Lorenz by burying his face in the crook of Lorenz’s neck. The contact is far more comforting than he would like to admit. “You aren’t a bad guy, hating me aside. I can respect your ideals – as long as you aren’t spouting more nonsense about how much <em>greater </em>nobles are.”</p><p>The words come out of nowhere, and there’s a lot Lorenz wants to say in reply to that. He suddenly registers warm tears wetting his shoulder, and all thoughts of rebuttal are instantly thrown out the window, making way for a rather large pit of guilt deep in his stomach. How could he have forgotten how much of a beating Claude’s taken? With a start, Lorenz realizes it was only this morning that they were ambushed in the woods. How much blood has Claude lost since then?</p><p>“Claude, how is your head?”</p><p>Claude hums quietly, thinking. “I’m a bit woozy, but I’m hanging in there.”</p><p>“I’m not sure I believe that.”</p><p>Claude shifts a bit, arms moving around as he grimaces, but he keeps on struggling until Lorenz hears the distinct snap of something breaking. He glances at Claude in alarm. “Are you alright?”</p><p>The rope falls away, and Claude groans as he can finally move his arms, no longer wrenched painfully behind his back. “Awfully kind of him to bring that knife down where he did,” Claude sighs, reaching up to pat Lorenz’s chest. Lorenz hisses at the pressure to his ribs, however light it may be. He can only imagine how much Claude’s joints are aching in protest.</p><p>Claude laughs, voice still strained. “Teach never happened to train you in white magic, huh? ‘Cause it might be hard to get out with us like this.”</p><p>Grimacing, Lorenz shakes his head. “I have taken up magic, but...” Faith has never been a strong suit of his. As much as he postured about showing up to the cathedral and giving prayers, he has never been one to put his belief in someone other than himself. Still, that’s no reason for him to give up. “I can try,” he decides.</p><p>Claude quirks an eyebrow, finding something in those words interesting. “Really? I mean, as long as you don’t blast me away or something, I’m all for it. Roll over so I can get your ropes undone.”</p><p>Being told to roll over puts a bad feeling in Lorenz’s stomach, but really, it’s just Claude. He’s safe. With a pained groan, he shifts over to his side, wincing at the pain that shoots up his chest and back.</p><p>Claude reaches out, working at the ropes. It’s hard for Lorenz not to react as his hands are pulled at and tugged, but his wrists are chafed and bruised. His breath comes out in a ragged hiss, and when Claude finally manages to pull the rope free, Lorenz rolls onto his back and groans in relief, stretching his hands out in front of him and trying to shake feeling back into them. After a moment of that, he takes a deep breath, sitting up and motioning for Claude to come closer.</p><p>“Alright. Let me look at your leg.”</p><p>Claude shifts a little, all but crawling on the floor. It’s horribly undignified, but neither of them have it in themselves to care. “Honestly, they patched me up well enough, but it still hurts like hell. Well, as much as the rest of me hurts, now.”</p><p>“There is nothing I can do about the blood you’ve already lost,” Lorenz warns, flexing his hand before laying it gently against Claude’s leg. With a clear goal in mind comes clarity, and despite his exhaustion he finds he’s able to ignore the pain and focus inward to draw on magic that he hasn’t used in too long a time. After a moment, the soft glow of healing magic flows from his hand. It’s weak, and even such a small amount is enough to hit him with another wave of nausea. “We’re going to have to prioritize,” he mutters, pulling his hand back.</p><p>Claude sighs in relief, the dull throbbing in his leg fading. “Our ribs, and my back. Maybe my hand, if we can. We need to move uninhibited; we can put up with some bruises and my broken nose.”</p><p>Lorenz nods and takes a deep breath, moving his hand up to Claude’s ribs, closing his eyes to focus again, letting the magic seep into Claude’s chest. Claude grunts in pain, and Lorenz can feel his ribs snap back into place under his hand. The sound it makes alongside the pained noises are almost enough to make Lorenz falter, but he manages to push through. It’s a visceral process, nothing like the calming, practiced magic of Marianne or Lysithea, and by the time he’s done his hands are shaking and his face is pale and drawn. Nevertheless, he gives Claude a resolute nod. “Your back, please.”</p><p>Claude looks up at him, lips pursing. He can clearly tell Lorenz isn’t practiced enough to keep this up for long, and there’s a set look of defiance in his eyes. “No. Take care of your own injuries first – it’ll be easier for you after.”</p><p>Frankly, Lorenz had almost forgotten about his own injuries in the face of everything that had been done to Claude – which is positively baffling, since everything <em>hurts. </em>With a jerky nod, he pulls his hand back and presses it over his own chest. The warm glow is there, but there’s no relief. Biting his lip, Lorenz tries again, focusing harder for a long moment, but to no avail.</p><p>With a bitter laugh, he draws his hand back. “It would seem I am immune to my own magic. Useful if I’m handling fire, but in this case... not so.”</p><p>“Oh. Of course.” Claude sighs, shaking his head, and guilt tugs at Lorenz as he realizes he’s going to be the problem here. “Will you be okay to run around like that? My crest can only heal myself, so we’re out of luck there.”</p><p>“I will have no choice.” With a sigh of his own, Lorenz gestures for Claude to turn around. “Let me see your back.”</p><p>Claude nods, hesitant, but shifts so his back is to Lorenz. There is blood that’s still slowly oozing from the cuts, staining the remnants of the once yellow shirt. The fabric of it is just barely clinging to him at all. Gingerly, Lorenz pushes it out of the way so he can see the full extent of the damage. It isn’t too bad, but the sheer volume of cuts is what has him worried.</p><p>“You’ll need a new coat, I’m afraid,” Lorenz says as he gently presses his hand over Claude’s back. The magic is weaker this time, but thankfully the cuts don’t take as much effort to heal. He watches as Claude’s skin knits itself back together, crudely formed scars raising under his hands. “While it’s far from pretty, it’s the best I can do. I apologize.”</p><p>“Hey, people dig battle scars, right? You just made me more handsome.” For the first time since they got here, Claude doesn’t wince as he laughs. He pushes himself upright, testing the aches and pains left behind. With any luck, his crest will activate sooner rather than later and accelerate his healing. Unexpectedly, he then pushes himself to his feet, working out the stiffness in his limbs. “Alright. What did you see when they took you away earlier? Did they take you upstairs?”</p><p>Lorenz had been taking a moment to breathe and reorient himself, clenching his fists to try to stop the trembling in his hands, but the question gives him pause. “They did. I think... there weren’t many of them milling about, though that may have been circumstantial. I wish I could tell you more, but – I was rather distracted.” He has to force his thoughts from wandering back to that room, being threatened and grappled and more scared than he’s ever been in his life. He can still feel the phantom pain of a hand gripping his throat, and he shudders, closing his eyes to block out the memories.</p><p>Claude’s voice is quick to break him out of his recollection. “Right, well. I think that maniac scared off whatever guard they might have left for us.” He presses an ear to the door, carefully listening for any noise. “Probably figured we wouldn’t be going anywhere after that... display.” He turns to Lorenz with a raised eyebrow. “You know how to pick a lock?”</p><p>Lorenz gives Claude a deadpan look. “Why would I know how to pick a lock?”</p><p>“I didn’t think you knew how to heal either, but you’re always so full of surprises,” Claude replies, winking at him with a smile. “You have a pin I can use? Maybe on the flower?”</p><p>“I fail to see why you’re surprised,” Lorenz huffs as he unclasps the silk rose on his jacket and hands the pin holding it over to Claude. Frankly, he’s surprised the ornamentation had survived after being shoved into the stone so much. “Protecting one’s allies is a noble pursuit. Petty thievery is not.”</p><p>“Yeah, but I didn’t think you’d be the type to do much more than ride a horse in some armour and stab some enemies with a lance. You can protect people that way, too.”</p><p>“Just because I am proficient with a lance does not mean I prefer one.”</p><p>With a shrug, Claude kneels, squinting at the lock, and Lorenz wonders what sort of place they’re in where the doors have to be picked from the inside. The average bandits certainly don’t have convenient cells built into their hideouts. He’d assume it’s a fort, but his brief excursion earlier had shown him the building is much more manor-like.</p><p>“You ready to run if things go south?” Claude asks. “You’ll have to do most of the fighting. I’m pretty useless without a bow or an axe.”</p><p>Seeing Claude fiddling with the door, Lorenz pulls himself up off the floor with a pained groan, wincing as everything aches at the movement. “I’m not sure how much I have left in me,” he admits weakly.</p><p>Claude looks back at him, considering. “... let’s take a nap, then. If they’re right, the boss won’t arrive until morning, and they probably think we’ve passed out by now anyway. Better to wait for most of them to fall asleep, too.”</p><p>“We cannot know that they won’t come back,” Lorenz presses, though the idea of rest is so, so tempting. “What if this is our only opportunity?”</p><p>“And what if we blow it when you pass out after two spells?” Claude shoots back. “I’ll keep an ear out. You just rest – we need you at the top of your game.”</p><p>Lorenz swallows, looking to the floor with a mirthless chuckle. “Even so, I... I am not certain I’ll be able to sleep.”</p><p>Claude hums, turning to sit against the door, then beckons Lorenz over with a wave. “Let me try something.”</p><p>Warily, Lorenz approaches, stopping just in front of Claude. “Should I be worried?”</p><p>“Nah,” Claude chuckles, gently tugging Lorenz down until he’s laying on the ground, and Lorenz doesn’t realize what he’s doing until his head is laying in Claude’s lap.</p><p>“This is supposed to help?” Lorenz huffs, though the protest is weak at best. He is so very tired, and he’s already settling in more comfortably.</p><p>“Oh, relax,” Claude laughs, resting one hand on Lorenz’s head, fingers gently stroking through his hair. The point of contact is more reassuring than Lorenz would like to admit. Soon, Claude resumes his humming of the melody from earlier, his free hand finding one of Lorenz’s and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Get some sleep. I promise I won’t leave.”</p><p>The unfamiliar tune only brings more questions to Lorenz’s mind, but he’s drifting off too quickly to be able to hold onto those thoughts. He briefly considers questioning Claude, asking if what that woman had said is true, but... no. Not now. He owes it to Claude to at the very least not interrogate him until they’re both safe. Eventually, he falls into a light doze, barely catching on to foreign words in a song as unconsciousness finally takes him.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>cw: quite a bit of violence, threats of non-con, threats of burns, non-consensual drug use, and really bad racism toward Claude. Also lots of slurs.</p><p>WHAT A CHAPTER. and we've only just begun.......</p><p>there's a point here where the perspectives change that feels sort of awkward, but i'm just going to leave that because i do what i want! and what i want is switching to lorenz mid fic so we can see them BOTH experience personal trauma.</p><p>i'm maintaining a schedule of updating once a week. that being said, i'll be out in the woods for like, five days some time next week, so don't be alarmed if there's no update for a while. i promise i'm not leaving you guys hanging.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Escape and a Battle</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Claude and Lorenz bond more than they mean to. Things don't go as planned.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>As always, content warnings at the bottom.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><br/>
Lorenz doesn’t sleep well that night. This is both a blessing and a curse. He drifts in and out, consciousness tugging at him even past his exhaustion; when he’s awake, his thoughts are a jumbled mess, the drugs he had been given taking too long to wear off. But throughout it all, Claude is there, humming his strange melody and grounding Lorenz as he rests. </p><p>Hours pass before Lorenz wakes fully, and when he does, he finds that Claude’s song has stopped, which isn’t so bad, but also that he’s curled around Claude’s legs in his sleep, which is utterly embarrassing. But Claude had never let go of his hand, and the part of Lorenz that isn’t aching and bitter finds himself strangely touched. </p><p>“Claude,” he whispers, not wanting to wake the other man if he’s dozed off. “Are you with me?”</p><p>Turning his head little, Claude lets out a small grunt, but doesn’t fully wake.</p><p>Worry snakes its way into Lorenz’s heart as he suddenly remembers just how likely it is that Claude might have sustained a concussion. He took more blows to the head yesterday than any one man should.</p><p>“Claude,” Lorenz says again, panic waking him up rather quickly. He squeezes Claude’s hand where their fingers are still laced together, and whacks him lightly on the leg. “Claude!” </p><p>At the hit, Claude jerks a bit, blinking his eyes open slowly before his gaze lands on Lorenz. “Did you have to hit me?”</p><p>“I had to make sure you would wake,” Lorenz tacitly points out, a frown tugging at his lips.</p><p>“You could have given me a bit of time,” Claude sighs, wrinkling his nose. He hisses a little, a hand coming up to gingerly poke at it. “Right. Still broken. How are you feeling?”</p><p>Frowning more now, Lorenz sits up on the floor to give Claude a scrutinizing look in the dark. “Would you like me to set it for you?”</p><p>While he doesn’t look thrilled, Claude gives a nod. “If you don’t use any magic, that’d be good.”</p><p>“Alright. Give me just a moment.” Lorenz slowly shifts so that he’s kneeling, ignoring the pain blossoming in his ribs, then nudges Claude in the shoulder. “If you would sit up, please?” </p><p>Claude chuckles, pushing himself upright. “Not into me laying down this time?” he teases, bracing himself and biting down on his tongue so he won’t cry out.</p><p>“You aren’t nearly as funny as you think you are,” Lorenz says pleasantly, right before snapping Claude’s nose back into place.</p><p>Claude bites back a scream, eyes watering in earnest. He takes deep breaths as he curls in on himself, tamping down on any noise until the pain seems to fade. “You enjoyed that far too much,” he accuses.</p><p>“I take no joy from violence,” Lorenz replies primly. “Are you ready to go?”</p><p>With a sniff, Claude nods, shifting where he’s leaning against the door so he can look back at the lock. Taking out the pin, he sets about finishing what he started last night, finally unlocking the door with a small <em>click</em>. “You’re good to go too, right?” he asks, ever so slowly pushing the door open. </p><p>“Yes,” Lorenz says curtly as dim light floods the room, causing him to blink a few times as his eyes adjust. It doesn’t matter that his ribs still hurt something fierce, or that he’s hit with a slight wave of dizziness every time he moves his head too fast. He’s doing better than he was yesterday, no matter by how small a margin. Getting to his feet, Lorenz bites back a groan as he steps into place behind Claude, then gives him a resolute nod. He’s tense and ready to go at a moment’s notice.</p><p>Pausing for a beat, Claude steps back to grab his torn jacket and the remnants of the rope from the floor before coming back to the door. A brief glance down the hall reveals it to be dark and empty, the only source of light coming from the direction they had come through before. Taking a moment to brace himself, Claude steps into the hall. Following closely at his heel, Lorenz shuts the door behind them.</p><p>It’s only thanks to years of trained grace and poise that Lorenz is able to find some measure of stealth within himself. Ironically, the practice of elegance and the practice of sneaking aren’t so different from each other; if he could only get his pained breathing under control, he thinks he might be quite good at this. As it is, he does his best to breathe as shallowly as possible. </p><p>“If you follow up the stairs,” he whispers, staying as close behind Claude as he can, “there should be a door that leads to a sort of mess hall. I hadn’t gone in myself, but I imagine there might be an entrance out that way—though I cannot be certain.”</p><p>Claude nods, then continues edging along the wall. Lorenz is surprised when he’s led not to the right and up the stairs, but rather further down the hall in the opposite direction he had suggested. And, really, he has to try hard not to feel offended his input is being disregarded entirely. They reach a door, and Claude cracks it open, clearly relieved to see it unlocked. Lorenz pauses behind him as he sticks his head in to take a look around. With a small hum, Claude enters and gestures for Lorenz to follow.</p><p>Lorenz doesn’t need to be told twice. He slips in behind Claude, closing the door behind him. Once he’s in the room, he’s surprised to see it’s a storage room of sorts, but he’s beyond relieved; clutching at his ribs, he sits down on a crate as soon as he can. The small distance they’ve covered so far is enough to leave him nearly gasping for breath, the pain flaring up in his ribs and – well, everywhere. It’s utterly pathetic.</p><p>“How did you know this room was here?” He asks as Claude begins rummaging through some boxes. </p><p>“Honestly? I had no idea. We just got lucky.”</p><p>Lorenz hums, but it sounds more like a groan. He winces at the sound. “How fortunate for us.”</p><p>Claude pauses, tilting his head in Lorenz’s direction. “We need to think up a new plan. We can’t escape with you barely able to walk.” He continues through his rummaging, pulling out useless things from boxes, from textiles to spices to spoons. It looks as though they’d raided an entire merchants guild – which might actually be the case. “You see any vulneraries? Not sure if they’d be in here, or in the armory.” </p><p>“We do not have much time,” Lorenz presses, but he gets up to help the search. As per his observations, the room seems to be full of looted items from travelers and merchant caravans. It isn’t until Lorenz checks the very crate he’d been sitting on (after Claude had looked through just about everything else) that he finds what they’re looking for. </p><p>“How very convenient,” he mutters, grabbing a vulnerary from the crate and holding it out for Claude to inspect. He isn’t sure if magical medicine can go bad, but he isn’t interested in finding out.</p><p>Taking the bottle, Claude pops off the cork and gives it a sniff. He takes a small sip, then hands it back to Lorenz with a nod, relief clear on his face. “It’s safe,” he announces, grabbing another one from the box for himself.</p><p>Lorenz leans against another crate and downs the vulnerary in what must be record time, wincing as everything tries to knit itself back into place. It’s painful, and it isn’t perfect, but it’ll have to do. He pockets another vulnerary for later, though if they’re lucky they won’t have to use it. </p><p>Having already downed his own vulnerary, Claude tosses aside the empty bottle and begins gathering a few coats that he had pillaged from one of the boxes. Some of them have blood stains, which is something Lorenz doesn’t want to think too hard on, but they’re better than nothing – especially for Claude, whose own coat had been torn up at knifepoint. Claude pulls one on, then tosses another to Lorenz. </p><p>“Not the best disguise, but it’s better than sneaking around in our own clothes. Might buy us a few seconds, if we’re lucky.”</p><p>Taking the coat, the first thing Lorenz notices about it is that it’s of surprisingly decent quality, despite being made from simple leather and fur – perhaps from a merchant? That would certainly fit in with the other items that have been stored here. Some things look as though they’ve been gathering dust for years. He shucks off his own jacket, wincing but at least no longer reduced to gasping at the pain that shoots up his ribs. Through the thin white of his shirt, Claude can see the patchwork of bruises that seems to engulf Lorenz’s entire torso, and he purses his lips as Lorenz pulls the coat on. </p><p>“How certain are you that this will work?” Lorenz asks, buttoning up his front.</p><p>“The disguises? Maybe thirty percent. Escaping at all? Still working on that one.” Claude looks around some more, checking for anything that might be useful, but comes up short. With nothing else for it, he shoves their discarded jackets into the bottom of a crate, giving a small noise of triumph as he pops back up with a hat in hand. He throws it to Lorenz, who catches it with a wrinkle of his nose, then pulls up the hood of his own jacket over his head. “Good to go?”</p><p>“This is hideous,” Lorenz mutters, but dons the hat regardless, a simple woolen cap that thankfully covers most of his hair. If his colouring weren’t so distinctive, he would have gladly left the horrible thing behind. “Are you sure these outfits are conducive to sneaking around?”</p><p>“They’ll be fine,” Claude insists, moving to open the door. “Walk around like you own the place, and most people won't question you. Like I said, every bit of time we can buy ourselves is invaluable.”</p><p>“You’ve never said that.”</p><p>“Well, I’m saying it now.” Claude doesn’t wait for any more of Lorenz’s input, which is just typical, instead giving him an insistent shushing noise as he steps back out into the corridor. </p><p>Lorenz rolls his eyes, but follows yet again, drawing on those years of habit to keep himself walking confidently and unsubdued despite the almost overwhelming doubt as Claude leads them to the staircase. If they’re going to act like they belong in this hovel, Lorenz isn’t going to be the one that ruins their disguise. With any luck, they won’t encounter any one at all at this time of night, but he’ll play his part.</p><p>Despite their rough plan to pretend they’re bandits, Claude still pauses when they reach the top of the stairs, hearing hushed voices coming from further down the hall. He and Lorenz wait in tense silence for a moment, waiting for the voices to die down before approaching the door that Lorenz had mentioned earlier, right across the corridor from their hiding spot. Carefully, Claude pushes the door open.</p><p>The mess hall isn’t too impressive; to one side torchlight pours out of a wide doorway that might lead into either a kitchen or a cellar, but it’s difficult to tell from their vantage point. The hall itself holds four long tables, and on the far end from them is a large, double door. In the middle of it all sits a rather large man, muttering at himself into a tankard of ale. There’s a sword sheathed at his side.</p><p>Claude eyes the man before silently gesturing for Lorenz to follow his lead, walking around the edge of the room behind the man’s back. He doesn’t crouch or otherwise make it obvious he’s sneaking, but he still takes care to keep his footsteps as silent as possible. </p><p>The man at the table turns slightly, not enough to see them, but enough for Lorenz to see a hint of his profile, and he almost stumbles when he recognizes the man. He just manages to catch himself and keep pace with Claude, trying to still the sudden thundering of his heart. Of everyone they could encounter, did it have to be <em>him</em>? </p><p>There’s a clattering of dishes from the other room, and Lorenz realizes with a start that they aren’t alone, even with the man who’s deep in his cups. Claude scowls when he hears the noise, but he schools his expression when a boy emerges from the entryway, scurrying over to refill the ale the man was nursing. The boy can’t be much older than Lorenz or Claude, with an honest sort of countenance that Lorenz hasn’t seen with any of the bandits. The boy stops when he sees them, blinking owlishly, and Claude marginally quickens his pace as the larger man turns to see what the other was gawking at, still maintaining that facade of confidence. </p><p>Fear has Lorenz’s heart hammering in his chest, but if he closes his eyes and pretends he’s literally anywhere else, acting with straight-backed assurance is easy. But seeing the younger man has him strangely shaken, in a different way from encountering the other one. He hadn’t been expecting to see anyone so unassuming. Not in a place like this. It’s one thing to believe these people as <em>the enemy</em>, simply evil through and through, but seeing a shred of normalcy here doesn’t sit well with Lorenz. He can’t quite put his finger on <em>why</em>.</p><p>Remembering to play his part, Lorenz shoots the boy his best disdainful look, - which is nothing to scoff at - and marches on after Claude.</p><p>The boy cocks his head, but he doesn’t seem to think their presence is an issue. He finishes pouring the man’s drink, then moves to head back into the kitchen, right as Claude reaches the doors and pushes them open. It isn’t the entrance Lorenz had hoped it might be, but rather a segue into a sprawling foyer, leaving them a couple dozen feet from what’s presumably the main door. Claude’s gaze quickly flicks over the few windows in the room, cataloguing, before hastily closing the door to the mess hall behind Lorenz. They can only hope the man is as uncaring as the boy who had seen them. </p><p>A feeling of apprehension settles itself in Lorenz’s gut. “This is going almost too well,” he mutters once the door has closed. Claude gives him a pointed look, but then they’re both standing alert when there’s a loud shuffling from the other room. It sounds like, oh, a bench being shoved back against stone. Of course. “This is not my fault,” Lorenz hisses, as Claude raises an eyebrow at him. He did <em>not</em> jinx their chances. </p><p>With an air of panic, Claude gives the room another once-over before shoving Lorenz off to the side into a shaded nook, and Lorenz goes along with a hiss. Claude steps close, pressing him into the wall and keeping an eye on the doors, tense. “Play along if things go south.”</p><p>Lorenz’s heart is hammering in his chest, fear forgotten in the face of this blatant proximity. “The door is right there,” he hisses, resisting the urge to push Claude off, but Claude only shakes his head.</p><p>“We don’t know who’s out there. There might be guards, or-”</p><p>He doesn’t have the time to finish his argument as the doors are shoved open not a moment later, and the bandit stalks into the center of the room. Lorenz goes tense beside Claude, a hand instinctively going up to where there’s still a ring of bruises around his neck, but Claude doesn’t seem to notice. In fact, Claude gives him a look that’s completely unreadable. His eyes narrow for a moment, then he’s suddenly yanking him down by the collar – whatever Lorenz had been expecting, it isn’t for Claude to tug him <em>right into a kiss</em>.</p><p> </p><p>Claude’s mind is racing, even as he kisses Lorenz. It’s the only thing he can think to do that would excuse them sneaking around, and keep other people from prying into their business. Never mind the fact that he’s never kissed <em>anyone</em> before, or that Lorenz is tense as a bowstring beneath him – this might be Lorenz’s first kiss too, and isn’t that a sad thought? But Lorenz barely reacts beyond a shocked noise that Claude can <em>feel</em> the reverberation of, and with the way their lips are locked it sounds more like a moan. It’s a little embarrassing, but Claude can work with it. He presses closer, wrapping an arm around Lorenz’s waist, trying to make it look intimate enough that most people will instinctively look the other way. </p><p>Unfortunately, the thug isn’t one of those people. Why would he be? No one in this place has any sort of decency. “Hey!” he shouts, even as he has a disgusting leer on his face. “You two aren’t allowed in here.”</p><p>Claude breaks away, sending a quick prayer to whichever Fodlan gods are around that Lorenz doesn’t blow their cover. Pretending to be out of breath (though really, it isn’t hard), he glances back at the thug, wetting his lips as he gives a small whine. “That’s what we’ve been told about the last five places. Seriously, where are we supposed to go, the woods?”</p><p>For a moment, Claude almost believes it’s worked. The man rolls his eyes, opening his mouth to make a retort, but then his gaze lands on Lorenz, and his eyes widen in recognition. His grin turns manic, and when he begins stalking toward them, Claude can feel Lorenz flinch back, cornered in the alcove though he is. “Out for a little fun, are we?” the man sneers. </p><p>Dread pools in Claude’s gut. When had he and Lorenz seen each other? The only time Claude had been separated from him was when they had gone through their interrogations, and Lorenz... ah, shit. Claude glances at him, reading the panic in his eyes. Of course the one person they encounter is the one who had Lorenz so shaken. Nevertheless, there’s something he can work with here. He’ll just have to hope Lorenz isn’t going to kill him for it.</p><p>“Caught us, huh?” Claude says as he pouts, inflecting his tone with a whine. “Look... we can do you a favour. Just don’t lock us up again, please? We’re just trying to have some fun before your boss comes back tomorrow.</p><p>Under him, Lorenz gives Claude’s arm a tight squeeze in warning, and maybe there’s some sense in telling Claude to smarten up, because the bandit has no regard for the game he’s trying to play. He gives a cruel laugh, continuing his advance until he’s close enough to lay a meaty hand on Claude’s shoulder with a vice like grip. “Y’know, I might believe that if pretty boy here hadn’t already told me he wanted none of that.” Suddenly, he yanks Claude back, pulling him away from Lorenz with terrifying ease before slamming him into the wall beside the alcove. He hears Lorenz shout out in alarm, but there’s a ringing in Claude’s ears as his head smacks back into the stone, all the air leaving his lungs. Distantly, he wonders how many hits to the head a guy can handle before he starts to lose it. </p><p>Recovering as quickly as he can, Claude scrambles to save the situation. “Okay! You’re right,” he says quickly, voice coming out in a pained wheeze. “Just – don’t send us back to our cell. We’ll make it worth your time, alright?” </p><p>Now, Claude isn’t the type to beg for his life, but they need to get this brute to let his guard down if they have any chance of overpowering him. The man is <em>massive</em>, and Claude has no clue how strong Lorenz’s magic is. He doesn’t want to gamble on that magic alone. </p><p>As if hearing Claude’s thoughts, the man leans in close, pinning Claude by the shoulders as a hand comes up to grasp roughly at his jaw. “One of our guys bragged about spending some time with you boys, but you ain’t lookin’ so broken to me. Maybe he didn’t play hard enough.”</p><p>Claude has to fight back a grimace as the man presses against him, far too warm and slightly crushing. His heart is racing, but he'll work with this. He just needs to get this man to let his guard down so Lorenz can get the drop on him. “Oh, he did,” he says, letting his voice waver now, eyes flickering to Lorenz as if betraying his own bravado. The act is depressingly easy to keep up. Still, he can only guess this guy might be into submissiveness. “He... look. I can show you, if you don’t do anything to master Lorenz. We can go to another room, do whatever you want. Just don’t hurt him more. Please.”</p><p>For better or for worse, the thug eats it right up. He tilts his head down so he’s breathing in Claude’s ear, his hand snaking up to wrap around Claude’s neck. “Filthy little slut, aren’t you?” he says, with a hoarseness to his voice that wasn’t there before. Claude has to suppress a shudder. “You sure about that? See, I made some heavy promises to your friend here that I intend to keep.”</p><p>By the gods, this guy is a creep. He’s thinking he won’t regret killing this man when it comes down to it, for once. “I’m sure,” he replies, voice tight but steady. Over the man’s shoulders, he makes eye contact with Lorenz, giving him a wink to let him know the situation’s still under control. Which it is! It is. </p><p>Lorenz shoots back a bewildered and panicked look that clearly communicates he thinks Claude is crazy. Typical. Claude rolls his eyes at him. Lorenz will get it eventually. </p><p>Their silent communication is cut off when the bandit shifts his stance, lifting Claude from the floor with the hand at his neck, using his hips to pin Claude to the wall as he speaks right into his ear. “I could take you right now. How’s that sound, huh? Get you on your knees and fuck your smart little mouth in front of your master.”</p><p>Claude chokes for a moment, only breathing easier when there’s weight pressed against his own hips, but then that isn’t much better either. “I – I’d rather do it somewhere – <em>private</em>,” he grits out, desperately trying to maintain a measure of calm within himself. <em>Come on, Lorenz.</em> “I mean, he can watch, but – don’t you think others will see us – <em>urk</em>-” </p><p>The thug squeezes harder, for a moment completely cutting off Claude’s airway, and that’s when he finally begins to panic. He grasps at the man’s arm, desperately trying to get him to let go, unable to kick out with his legs pinned against the wall. </p><p>With a grunt, the thug suddenly throws Claude to the floor, sending him skidding across the stone. In that moment, Lorenz finally acts, doing something either very brave, or very, very stupid. Claude is so out of it, gasping on the floor as he is, that he barely registers as Lorenz rushes forward, unsheathing the man’s sword from his belt and pointing it as his neck in a single move, pushing against the skin hard enough to draw blood. </p><p>“If you take another step, I will kill you where you stand,” he hisses, and through his haze Claude is shocked at the sheer anger in his voice. “And don’t yell for help either.” </p><p>Pushing himself up off the floor, Claude feels the tension fall away from his shoulders now that they have the upper hand again – but they have to be smarter than to let their guard down. </p><p>The thug barely seems threatened; he grins, putting his hands up in what seems like a mockery of their situation. “You really think you could beat me in a fight?” </p><p>Lorenz doesn’t answer, giving a push of the sword as he flicks his eyes to the door. “Out. Now.”</p><p>Brushing his pants off, Claude walks over to the door, keeping a wary eye on the bandit. “We wouldn’t be able to beat you in a fair fight, but a dirty one? I’ve got a bit more confidence in our chances,” he says casually, cracking open the door to peek outside, looking for potential guards. “You really thought we’d just roll over and give up?” </p><p>“Ha! Should’ve guessed,” the thug snorts. Unheeding of the line of blood being drawn at his neck, he turns to face Lorenz directly, entirely disregarding Claude behind him. “Seems like playing dirty runs in the blood.” </p><p>Lorenz scowls, but keeps a firm grip on his blade. “I don’t know know what you’re talking about.”</p><p>With a frown, Claude steps toward the pair. “Lorenz, we don’t have time for this. We have to keep going,” he murmurs, glancing back outside. He doesn’t know how long a window they’ll have before a patrol shows up. </p><p>With a jerky nod, Lorenz pushes forward, but the thug doesn’t move. His grin only widens. “Guess you don’t know this ain’t the first time daddy’s had us do his dirty work.” Lorenz flinches so hard he almost drops his sword. “We were surprised he let his brat get caught in the crossfire. Damn shame he didn’t even get what he want.”</p><p>Claude freezes in his tracks. “He hired you? To kidnap the Riegan heir?”</p><p>“Kidnap? Nothing so nice as that.” There’s a smug look on the bandit’s face now, like he knows he has them hooked. Claude feels a wave of hatred surge through him. “Guess the noble ain’t so noble after all. Funny how that works.”</p><p>“You lie,” Lorenz hisses, but his face is pale, his knuckles going white around the hilt of the sword as he presses it deeper into the bandit’s skin. “My father would never stoop so low.”</p><p>Claude wishes he could be so confident – though judging by the waver in Lorenz’s tone, he isn’t so sure about his words either. </p><p>“He hired your people to kill him, then,” Claude surmises, voice flat and unsurprised. Gods, he really should have been able to guess that one. None of this should be surprising. The knowledge does nothing to stop the blow of betrayal he feels. “He left no instructions to leave Lorenz unharmed? Really?” </p><p>“Who’s to say?” The bandit snorts. “Boss knows all the details, and fuck if I care. A man’s gotta take his pleasures where he can get ‘em.” With surprising speed for someone who’d been drinking not ten minutes prior, the thug rushes forward, grabbing Lorenz’s wrist and <em>twisting</em>. With a pained cry, Lorenz drops the sword, the man grabbing it as it falls with his free hand before turning to point it at Claude, keeping Lorenz’s wrist in a crushing grip.</p><p>Claude reacts instinctively, hands going to grab a bow that doesn’t exist. And damn it, he should have realized the man was just biding his time, just waiting for Lorenz to drop his guard. They were foolish for getting drawn in so easily. “Easy,” he warns, raising his hands slowly.</p><p>The man couldn’t possibly look more smug. “I’m a trained mercenary, boy. Stronger’n most, too.” Still grinning, he squeezes his grip on Lorenz’s wrist, tighter and tighter until a distinct <em>snap</em> rings through the room. A strangled scream rips itself from Lorenz’s throat, his knees buckling beneath him. </p><p>“Alright, I get the idea!” Claude hisses, fighting the urge to run and check on Lorenz. He has to trust he’s going to be okay – doing something stupid here is going to get them both killed. And they don’t know how many people heard Lorenz yell. </p><p>The bandit – no, <em>mercenary</em> - lets go of Lorenz’s wrist, dropping him to the ground, before advancing on Claude. He hefts the sword over his shoulder, like he doesn’t consider either of them a threat. “Ready to surrender, boy?”</p><p>Claude backs toward the door, eyes flickering behind the man to where Lorenz is cradling his wrist on the floor. He can see him trying to regulate his breathing, trying to stay calm, but it’s clear he’s in a lot of pain. Claude swallows, then nods at the mercenary. Buy Lorenz time to recover. He’s injured, but he won’t stay down for long. Claude <em>has</em> to trust in this. “... We surrender. There’s no need to hurt him anymore.”</p><p>The mercenary considers that for a moment, idly pointing his sword forward at Claude’s neck, looking as though he’s debating whether or not it’d be worth it to kill him then and there. Claude swallows, stepping back until he’s pressed against the door; he doesn’t dare take his eyes off the man, but in his periphery he can see Lorenz pulling himself up off the floor. Just a little longer. <em>They can still do this. </em></p><p>“Please,” Claude implores, letting his voice waver again, “I don’t want to die. I’ll do whatever you want.” He has to fight back putting on a voice at the ridiculous words, not even half as scared as he looks with the confidence that Lorenz has his back. Or rather, that he’s at the mercenary’s back. Same difference, in the end. </p><p>The man hums, stepping right into Claude’s space again to grab his chin again. When he pushes his thumb against Claude’s lips, Claude has to force himself not to gag in disgust. There’s a disdainful look on the man’s face, which is better than a leer, but not by much. “I’m starting to think you ain’t worth the trouble,” he sneers, in the same moment that Claude catches sight of Lorenz summoning a flame to his good hand behind the man’s back. Before he can react, the pommel of the sword is swinging down to club him over the temple, and the last thing Claude sees is the bright flash of flame before everything goes black. </p><p> </p><p>When Claude wakes, it’s due to a splitting headache. He’s lying on the stone floor, hands cuffed together in front of him, in almost total darkness. It takes a painful moment of squinting around to realize he’s back in the room they started in. His head is <em>throbbing</em>, and he can’t will himself to sit up just yet. With a groan, he rests his forehead against the cool stone, letting it soothe away the aching pain. He still isn’t sure how many blows to the head he can handle, but he’s starting to think he’s hit the limit. </p><p>Worry sets deep in his gut as he recalls the events from – what, last night? Shit, Claude has no idea how long it’s been. Groaning again, he tries to push himself up, regretting it immediately as a wave of dizziness washes over him. “Lorenz?” he calls out, eyes blinking open. His heart sinks when he gets no response, and a quick glance around the room confirms that he is completely and utterly alone. </p><p>There’s a lot Claude has to process; their failed escape, Lorenz being gone, the fact that Count Gloucester apparently paid to have him <em>murdered</em>, among other crimes – but he doesn’t have time to think through any of it. There’s the clack of boots outside the door, partially blocking off what little light there is filtering in under it, alongside the hushed sound of what might be a conversation. A moment later, the door is being pushed open, and a woman who Claude hasn’t seen before steps into the room. The first thing he notices is that she’s far better dressed than the rest of him, though she still seems to have the practical type of clothes of a mercenary. She must be their leader. The second thing he notices is the giant axe strapped to her back. The most important thing is that she doesn’t look half as dumb as the others he’s dealt with. Claude is immediately put on edge. </p><p>She looks down at Claude with a smug sort of interest, smirking when her eyes land on him lying on the floor. “Good. You’re awake this time.”</p><p>Slowly, he sits up, squeezing his eyes shut against the pain and nausea before it settles. He doesn’t reply, opting to keep his mouth shut until he can figure out her game.</p><p>The woman gauges him silently for a moment, arms crossed and gaze unflinching. Eventually, she says, “You’re aware we have no reason to keep you alive.”</p><p>Claude meets her gaze just as unflinching. “Except I’m good leverage against Master Lorenz,” he says evenly. All the blows to the head didn’t make him forget that scheme, at least. “Where is he?”</p><p>She scoffs. “Leverage? We’re not playing that game anymore.” </p><p>“Where is he?” Claude demands again, a glare settling on his face. They don’t need leverage; what does that mean? Did Lorenz do the smart thing and run to get help? Unless he’s tied up somewhere, and they’re planning on beating answers out of him. By Seiros, Claude should have learnt magic – these cuffs have rendered him totally useless. </p><p>The woman is silent for a moment, likely considering how much she should tell Claude. “How much do you care for him?”</p><p>Isn’t that a loaded question. Claude purses his lips. “I’ll serve him with my life. If you want answers from me, you’ll tell me where he is.”</p><p>An eyebrow goes up, and she looks entirely too amused. “Really now? An Almyran who would die for a Gloucester? I find that hard to believe.” </p><p>Claude sighs, shaking his head a little. How much does this woman know about Lorenz’s family? “We aren’t so different from you. We <em>do</em> have loyalty. Mine is with the man I serve.” </p><p>“See, last I heard, Gloucester didn’t employ foreigners.” Her eyes narrow dangerously. “And my source is pretty reliable.”</p><p>Looking down, Claude lets his shoulders slump. It’ll be easier to play the loyal fool until he knows just who exactly he’s up against. “Look. They don’t know I’m from Almyra. I never let him know when they hired me, and I sure as hell wasn’t planning on them finding out. I don’t know what Lorenz is going to do now that you people have run your mouth about it.” And that, at least, is a real concern of Claude’s. </p><p>“It does make me wonder.” Crossing her arms, the woman leans back against the doorway and gives Claude a cold but appraising look. “After all, my men have been known to make mistakes before.”</p><p>“More than a few,” Claude snorts, more to himself than to her. He crosses his legs and leans back against the wall, mirroring her position. “You don’t believe I’m Lorenz’s retainer, do you?”</p><p>“I don’t,” she replies agreeably. “Give me a reason to keep you around.”</p><p>“Tell me where he is first. Then we’ll talk.”</p><p>The woman barks out a laugh. “I’d say he’s in the infirmary, but we don’t actually have one. That’s all your getting.” Which isn’t helpful at all.</p><p>Claude grits his teeth, eyes going dark. “Right.” He has to fight himself to remain calm, quickly taking a deep breath. “Fine. I can run messages. Send out demands. Whatever you need – there’s a lot I can do.”</p><p>“Indeed.” She smiles pleasantly, but there’s a dangerous glint in her eye as she examines Claude for another moment. “I don’t believe you ever gave me your name.”</p><p>“You all heard it every time you made Lorenz scream it,” Claude returns, still glaring. </p><p>“Darlen told me you were sassy,” the woman warns. She stands up straight, squaring her shoulders as she looks down at Claude. “Your name, boy.”</p><p>Claude lets out a deep breath, but he never looks away. “Claude. My name is Claude.”</p><p>Her expression is not unlike that of an animal who’s smelled blood. She grins, and Claude feels chilled to the bone. “Is that so?”</p><p>Claude purses his lips. “I see you’re a lot more well read than your lackeys.”</p><p>“I don’t pay them to be smart. So, Claude. What do you think I should do, here?”</p><p>“Let us go before Judith von Daphnel finds us and tears you apart?” Claude suggests with a shrug. He shifts to an even more casual stance now that he doesn’t have to pretend to be some submissive servant, his entire demeanor changing.</p><p>“Tell me, Riegan,” she says, crouching down to his level and leaning in close, “do you think anyone’s going to pay good money to see you free?” </p><p>Claude’s gut twists, because he knows there are so many who would say no. There are so many who would pay to have him kept here. But that doesn’t mean he has no one on his side. “Judith, Duke Riegan, probably some people at the monastery – plenty of people hate me, but not everyone. I’m pretty good at swaying people to my side.” He isn’t going to ask about her original plans; reminding her she was paid to kill him seems like the worst idea right now.</p><p>When she grins, it’s all teeth. “Then it’ll be a pleasure doing business with you.” She holds out her hand, clearly expecting Claude to shake it.</p><p>Claude doesn’t, just holding up his hands and shaking the chains a bit. He smiles up at her. “If you harm one more hair on Lorenz’s head, I promise you, every one of you will wish for death sooner than dealing with me.”</p><p>“Then you best behave yourself, hm?” She keeps her hand held out, not taking any stock in Claude’s threat.</p><p>Slowly, Claude takes her hand, struggling a little with the chains but still meeting her gaze with appropriate dignity. “If that’s what it takes to keep him safe, you have a deal.”</p><p>She gives Claude’s hand a firm squeeze. “Good. Leaves us with just one matter of business to take care of.” The woman stands, pulling a key from her pocket and holding it out for a moment. </p><p>Eyeing it, Claude watches her carefully. “And that is?”</p><p>The look she pins him with in response is both an appraisal and a challenge. “You boys did a lot of damage here. Between leading my men on and your near escape, you’ve hurt their ego. Let’s not forget my lieutenant is out of commission with some nasty new scars. Darlen hates you just on principle.” Claude perks up at that, cataloguing those small bits of information for later. The woman twirls the key around her finger, continuing her appraisal. “My people want blood, and I believe I’m obliged to let them have it.”</p><p>“So you’re throwing me to the wolves,” Claude sighs, slowly getting to his feet. “We have an agreement that Lorenz won’t be harmed from now on, correct? If you let them have at him, he will break. He won’t be of any use to you like that.”</p><p>“Aren’t you noble?” she asks sarcastically, raising an eyebrow as she catches the key in her hand. “Frankly, you’re right. I have no further use for Gloucester beyond keeping you in line. You understand what that means, yes?” Her smile is sickly sweet.</p><p>“Guess he’s still a thorn in my side,” Claude mutters drily, even though he doesn’t mean it at all. He doesn’t want to think about how different this situation would be without Lorenz’s presence; even if unwittingly, he helped keep Claude alive. Had these mercenaries not believed Claude was his retainer... no. He isn’t going to think about that. “I stay in line, and you treat Lorenz well. Sounds like a fair deal to me.</p><p>“Perfect.” Easy as that, she tosses Claude the key. “You leave the fortress and he dies. Get up to anything suspicious and me and your boy are going to have <em>words</em>.”</p><p>Claude catches it, even as his expression morphs into one of confusion. “You’re... letting me wander free?”</p><p>“Does that surprise you? Why?” she asks smugly. “What are you going to do?”</p><p>Claude hums, pretending to consider for a moment. “Nothing, I suppose.” Undoing his shackles with some fumbling, he lets them drop to the floor with a loud clatter. He carefully rubs at his raw wrists. “Will you take me to Lorenz?”</p><p>With a snort, the woman turns to leave. “I never said that was part of the agreement. You don’t get to see your boy until you earn it.”</p><p>Quickly, Claude steps after her, unwilling to let her leave just yet. “How do I earn it, then?”</p><p>“Haven’t decided yet.” She waves a hand dismissively as she steps out into the hall, gait just as confident as when she first walked in. Somehow, Claude knows she got everything she wanted from that conversation. “Good luck, Riegan,” she calls, the words a clear dismissal. </p><p>Willing himself not to follow after, Claude stands in place for a minute, mind racing. He could leave. He could walk out the front door, make his escape, and never look back. He could have Count Gloucester tried for treason and these mercenaries disbanded. He could never let these people hurt him again. But all that means he’d have to leave Lorenz, and that’s a gamble Claude just isn’t willing to make. So, he stays put, giving himself some final moments of asylum in the solitude of his cell before he has to step out and face a house full of people who hate him, with a smile on his face all the while. </p><p>Claude knows he can do this. He will, until he can find Lorenz and get them out of here. After all, this isn’t anything he hasn’t done before.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>cw: canon typical violence, threatened non-con, threatened murder, lots of bad blows to the head</p><p>referring to characters when you can't use their name yet is hard :(</p><p>I want to say more about this chapter and properly apologize for the wait, but I'm in literally the middle of nowhere with horrible internet (I'm posting from my phone! MY PHONE! Oh the horror!), so i'm just gonna put this up asap. From here out updates will be back to the regular weekly schedule, as you all deserve.</p><p>Comments and kudos are so very appreciated! Not to be a total simp for attention, but feedback really is what keeps me going. I crave knowing people are invested.</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>we're snitewing and lesbianspleen on tumblr (snitewing is also on twitter!), feel free to come cry with us about these sweet sad horribly repressed men</p></blockquote></div></div>
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